


Table Dancing and Middle Names

by BryceWrites



Series: Broken Measures [6]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Kissing, Middle Names, Questioning, Questions, Table Dancing, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3786205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryceWrites/pseuds/BryceWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a random writing prompt I pulled out of a hat. 'Give a character a middle name. Tell a story about it.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Table Dancing and Middle Names

“Do you need a hand with that, Gemma?” I asked, coming into the kitchen of the clubhouse with a grocery bag in my hand. Tonight was chili night and I knew Gemma made a mean chili, but she seemed pretty enthusiastic when I mentioned I made a pretty hearty cornbread from scratch. So I’d made Juice stop at the store with me on the way over so I could get everything I needed for enough people.

I knew the kitchen was always stocked with the basics; flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and butter. So all I had to pick up was cornmeal, eggs, milk and honey. I was going to make a savory cornbread that the club could dress up with honey or jalapenos. Or in Juice’s case, both.

Gemma looked up with a smile. “Always like a helping hand in the kitchen. Get those tomatoes for me, would ya?” Gemma said, gesturing to the cans on the far wall. I picked them up and hauled them over for her, digging in the drawer to hand her the can opener. “You got everything you need?”

“Yeah. I did an inventory of the cupboards yesterday to make sure what I needed from the store. I got muffin liners to make it easier.” I told her, digging in a lower cabinet for the muffin pans.

“I know I ain’t said it much, but it sure is nice having help around here. Tara is so busy with Jax and the crow eaters don’t do shit but look pretty.” Gemma said with a hand on her hip as she glowered at the band of pretty, young girls talking to Bobby, Tig, and Juice.

“Well, I appreciate it.” I told her honestly with a smile. “It’s been a long time since I felt like I was part of a family.”

“Juice says you’re from Georgia. I hear the best corn bread comes out of Georgia.” Gemma said with a smile.

I grinned. “My grandmamma taught me how to cook since my mom was a drunk.” I told her, feeling my accent slip a little.

“Oh, I hear ya there, sister. My momma died with a bottle in her hand.” Gemma said, shaking her head.

“Well how ‘bout that. My momma died with a cigarette in her hand. We always told her not to smoke in bed after she’d been drinkin’.” I said, wishing I could pull this goddamn accent back in. “Stubborn bitch burnt the house to the ground.”

“You didn’t… get caught inside, did you?” Gemma asked, sounding concerned.

I shrugged. “As luck would have it, the rest of us were out. Daddy was at the bar getting’ drunk and us kids were scattered.”

“Scattered?” Gemma asked, and it worried me a little bit how curious she was.

I nodded. “I was spending the night at a friend’s. It was the only time I got to do what I wanted without daddy yellin’. One brother was in the state pen and the other was having a make out session with the homecoming queen behind her boyfriend’s back.”

“Jeez, you had family in jail that young?” Gemma asked, folding her arms over her chest as I set to work making the cornbread.

I grinned. “My oldest brother, yeah. He’s got eight years on me. Fucker got in trouble just so he didn’t have to come home. It was pretty smart, but I was never brave enough to do that.”

Gemma shook her head. “And here you are, surrounded by cons.”

“Never said I hadn’t been myself. Just… never got in on purpose.” I told her.

“You were in jail?” Juice asked, appearing suddenly at the door.

My eyebrows pulled together as I looked at him. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked him.

“Long enough to know you haven’t gotten into jail on purpose.” He told me, jumping on the counter I wasn’t working on. “So what’d you do?”

“Does it matter?” I asked with a giggle.

“C’mon.” Juice drawled out. “You’re my old lady. I need to know these things.”

I smiled, accepting that he did. “I uh…” I started, mixing with the batter. “I got drunk at a concert when I was nineteen, in Tennessee.”

Juice grinned. “Were you dancing on tables?”

I bit my lip, looking from him to Gemma. Gemma smiled with a knowing look and Juice paused.

“Oh, mother fucker. You were dancing on tables?” He asked, sounding like a little kid in a candy store for his first time.

I nodded, digging in three drawers before finding an ice cream scoop to use to put the batter into the pans. “I got black out drunk, thanks to my guy friend who was trying to get a good lay. Unbeknownst to him, I’m a party drunk, so I just climbed up on the tables, started dancing and stripping to my heart’s content until I fell into the arms of two cops.”

“Isn’t Tennessee a ‘give them as much as they can take until we throw them in jail’ state?” Juice asked.

Leave it to him to know the drunk and disorderly laws of a state across the country. I nodded. “Except the cop who caught me had recently been sucker punched by my older brother. He heard my last name, saw who I was related to and I was guilty by association. 30 days in jail and $500 later, I was free to make as many bad choices in the privacy of my own home as I wanted.”

Juice chuckled. “I’d love to see you dance on some tables.”

“Maybe at home, kids.” Gemma spoke up, breaking Juice from his trance.

He grinned at her as I finished scooping batter into the pans. “What else don’t I know about you?”

“Hmm… My middle name is Jo.” I spoke up, putting the pans in the oven and setting the timer.

“Kelsi Jo.” Juice said, rolling it around his tongue as he tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. “How do you get Kelsi Jo?”

I shrugged. “It’s a family name. Every woman in the last five generations on my mom’s side has had the middle name Jo. I was the only girl my mom had. Jo.” I said in a flourish.

Juice smiled. “My mom liked Juan Carlos. No special story, no family name. She thought it sounded good when you shouted it.”

I smiled at him, kissing his cheek. “It could be worse. You could’ve been Joe Carlos.”

Juice crinkled his nose. “That definitely wouldn’t have worked out in my favor.”

I smiled, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. Juice put his hand behind my head before I could pull away, forcing my lips onto his. I smiled into the kiss, pushing against him.

“Alright, that’s enough. No sex in the kitchen.” Gemma said from behind Juice’s shoulder and he smiled as I broke away.

“But mom.” Juice said, making the word five syllables too long.


End file.
